Illusions of the Heart
by Csillan.Rose
Summary: Christine wants to perform on Broadway, and become a worldrenowned singer. But never in her wildest dreams did she think that in doing so she would associate herself with the mysterious man whose hostile actions put the leading lady on Broadway in danger
1. The Strange Article

(A/N: Hello! Hilary here. I've had this story in mind for a while, but I was never sure if I was going to write it or not. Finally, my want to write it won out, and so I did. I still wasn't going to put it up on but hey, why not, right? I know that any of you who read Crimson Rose are going to be like, "No! Now she won't update that one!" But I promise you that's not true. I'll work on alternating between updating both, each one every other day.  
An update a day keeps the angry mob away… ((smiles hopefully))

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this… I really don't know what the reaction will be to me writing a modern day phic… I can only tell you that this is ERIK/CHRISTINE! …I mean, would I write anything else?)

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**Chapter One: The Strange Article**

"Christine!" an excited voice called down the stairs of the apartment house. Christine paused on her way out of the door and looked back at her friend, Meg. She was waving something over her head, eyes wide with excitement and intrigue, as she dashed down the steps towards Christine. Several of the people standing in the hallway gave her irritated looks and moved away from her. "Christine! Did you get the news yet?"

Christine sighed. "No, I haven't Meg, but I don't have time right now. I'll be late for work. I'll read it later."

Meg got a disappointed look on her face. "But I just _know_ you'll be interested in it! It's about that singer on Broadway…Carmel something. Remember the one you complained about?"

Christine's interest sparked, but just a glance at her watch told her she didn't have time. "Toss it here, Meg, I'll read it on the way." She took the paper that Meg handed her, then dashed out of the door.

She _couldn't_ be late for work again...she had already been late once this week, and the manager was threatening to fire her. Even though her job at the little café didn't pay much, it was still _something_… and she needed all the help she could get.

Christine slid into her small, second-hand car and flung the newspaper across to the passenger seat. Perhaps she'd have time to read it at work.

xxxxx

Christine arrived at work just in time. She noticed her manager look suspiciously at the clock, but he didn't say anything. If she had been just a _minute_ later he would have been all over her. She got right to work, not wanting to chance getting him angry. She had brought the newspaper in with her, in case there was a pause between customers.

That didn't happen for a while. The day was even busier than usual, and she hardly had time to stop and take a breath, let alone read a newspaper article.

The chance she had been hoping for didn't come until after the dinner hours, which was about an hour before her shift was up. She worked from 5:30 to 9:15 PM, but some of the customers they served ate dinner rather late.

As soon as there was a decent sized pause from the flow of customers, Christine grabbed the newspaper and crept off into the back to read it. Her eyes widened at the headline.

_**Broadway Singer Threatened**_

_Carmelita Monroe, generally thought of as one of Broadway's fastest rising stars, received a threatening note Monday morning. The note was anonymous, detailing that if Carmelita continued to perform, she would meet an untimely end._

_"I dismissed it at first," Carmelita admits, "You get things like that sometimes when you're as well-known as I am. It just goes with the fame."_

_However, the note was realized as more than simply an empty threat when the next day, Carmelita found that someone had hacked into her social security system and deleted her from it._

_She received another anonymous note stating that if she didn't quit Broadway, things would continue to get worse. Frightened, Carmelita called in sick that day, and had her backup sing for her._

_That evening she received a note in the mail telling her that that had been a wise move. Carmelita claims that she had seen no one near her home all day, and had no idea how the note could have gotten there._

_The next day she returned, but kept an eye out for any trouble. She was in the middle of one of her solos when suddenly a 600 pound backdrop fell loose from the ceiling, missing her by bare inches._

_Carmelita left early, claiming that she wasn't going to sing in the night's show, and wouldn't be returning until everything was safe._

_Continued on B2_

Christine hurriedly flipped through the newspaper to find thecontinuation of the article, but the rest of it was only about how the police were on the case of finding the anonymous note-giver. As of yet, they had found out absolutely nothing, and didn't have hopes of getting anymore leads until the mysterious person struck again… and that might be fatal for Carmelita.

Christine wasn't a big fan of Carmelita's. She had an amazing range, it was true, but she belted everything out so loudly that every time Christine heard her she was tempted to cover her ears. She also had an atrocious accent, and in Christine's opinion, couldn't act in the least. All in all, she wasn't too worried about the Broadway star… but this whole affair was certainly odd, and it interested her.

"CHRISTINE!" She jumped as the voice bellowed from the front of the shop. She had forgotten where she was!

Instantly, she was on her feet. "Coming!"

She was met out in the shop with a line of customers waiting to get their orders taken. The two other young women on shift were working as fast as they could,trying to make up for her absenceChristine blushed slightly, feeling guilty, and got right to work.

Still, her mind never left the newspaper article. She couldn't figure out what intrigued her about it so much… Perhaps it was just because of her want to become a Broadway star, and she was putting herself in Carmelita's position. What would she have done?

Christine was relieved when the change of shift came forty-five minutes later. She gathered up her things and headed towards her car, humming as she went. She sighed as she realized she still hadn't practiced her recital piece for her music class. She needed to get on that as soon as possible.

Christine began driving back to her apartment, and then stopped. When was a better time to practice than right now? If she kept saying "I need to get on that right away" and yet never did, it could be weeks before she actually got to it... and she didn't have weeks.

Christine decided not to go back to her apartment. She couldn't practice there, anyway. So, instead of going straight, she took a left and headed out towards the suburbs of Manhattan. She knew of a small, quiet, little-known church that was out there that would be abandoned at this time of night. She had practiced there once before, and knew that the place had nice acoustics. As she drove, she warmed up, going through a series of scales and techniques.

It only took fifteen minutes to reach her destination, as she lived at the edge of the city anyway. As she had suspected, the church was quite empty, and free for her to use for a little while.

Christine dug in the back of her car, which was a mess, and fished out her recital music. She couldn't believe she had put off practicing this long—She should have started a week or two ago, but she had just found herself too busy.

Christine carefully got out of her car and locked it, then made her way into the tiny church to rehearse.

She got up onto the stage, and placed her music onto the podium. First, she hummed through the song, to make sure she had the tune right. It wasn't entirely true that she had never practiced—sometimes during class, the professor had given them time—but she still wasn't overly-familiar with the song, and needed to refresh her memory.

When she was sure she had it right, she began to sing, losing herself to the music.

As she swayed slightly in time with the beat, Christine couldn't know that she was being watched…

* * *

(A/N: Ahem… so… uh, how was it? Okay? Good? Completely and utterly horrible? Well, I hope not, anyway… I would love your opinions on it! I know modern-day phics are generally avoided, but I promise you that I have a plot in mind that I think people will enjoy… at least, I hope so. Sorry the first chapter was a bit short…please review and tell me what you think!) 

Hilary


	2. Erik's Decision

(A/N: I'm glad that the general reaction for this one has been good! Yay! Okay, well, here's the next chapter, anyway…

In the last chapter, I think I forgot the disclaimer. Anyway, this story does NOT belong to me! _Nothing_ in this story does… besides a few of Erik's servants, and a few of the college students. Everything else belongs to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Susan Kay.)

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**Chapter Two: Erik's Decision**

Erik watched the girl from up on the balcony of the second level of the church, entranced. He blended right in with the shadows, as he was wearing all black. The only thing that stuck out was the white mask on the right side of his face, making him even more mysterious than he already was. Erik moved with a catlike grace as he made his way further back into the dimness to make sure the girl would not see him. His house was actually nearby, hidden from view by a wall covered in ivy. It was entirely secluded, and that was how he liked it.

He had happened to be at the church that night because he was going through its records, trying to find a way to close it and take it down. The church brought a lot of people too close to his home for comfort.

He had heard this college girl come in, and had been seriously annoyed. Erik had been about to do something to scare her off, when she began to sing. Now he stood in the shadows, staring at her with rapt attention.

Her voice wasn't perfect, of course—far from it! But the pitch…the quality! There was so much potential… He was sorely tempted to go down there and tell her what she was doing wrong—but he couldn't.

The more he listened to her, the more enthralled he became. Her voice was clear and pure, sweet and tempting. When she finally finished, he nearly stood and clapped. At the last instant, he stopped himself.

This young women had affected him so profoundly…and she was a mere college student! She could bring the world to its knees if she had the proper tutor…

As she began the song for the second time, Erik crept unnoticed out of the church. The girl's car was parked off to the side, and he silently crossed to it. He stopped in front of it, smiling slightly at the girl's carelessness. She had left the window open.

Perhaps because she was at a church she thought that no one would rob her, but you could never tell in New York, especially this close to the city.

Erik reached through the window and unlocked the door. Quietly he slid inside and began rummaging through her things, looking for her wallet. At last, he found it. Quickly he opened it up and pulled out her student ID, glancing upwards as he did so. No, she was still in the church, not even aware he was there.

Erik looked back down at the student ID, scanning the information. Her name was Christine Daae, and she lived in a small apartment on the west side of New York. She 19 years old, was 5'4" and weighed 115 lbs. It also listed her school name, as well as some other useful information about her. He memorized all of the information on the card, then stuck it back into her wallet, careful to place it exactly where he had found it.

Erik then slipped out of her car, shutting the door noiselessly behind him. He hid himself, and then watched as she came back out of the church and started up her car.

He would have to keep an eye on her.

xxxxx

Christine had the strangest feeling that her privacy had been invaded as she drove back home. That, however, made no sense, and she brushed it aside.

When she pulled back up to her apartment, Meg ran outside. "Christine! Guess what?"

Christine got out of the car, fighting back a smile. With Meg, you never got bored. "What now, Meg?"

"You have a visitor!"

Christine raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Do I know them?"

"Yes, you know him. As a matter of fact—"

"We were old friends." A new voice cut in. Christine looked up to see a face she'd never thought to see again.

She gasped. "Raoul!"

The young man smiled widely as she ran up and embraced him. They had been friends when they were younger, and Christine had always had a secret crush on him. "Oh, Raoul, it's so nice to see you!"

"I thought I'd drop in and say hi. I just found out yesterday, after I applied, that we're attending the same school."

"We are?"

"Of course, you're in the music and performing arts classes, and I'm in business classes—but yes, we are attending the same school."

"That's…that's fantastic! Are you staying somewhere nearby?"

Raoul looked hesitant. "My parents bought a home for me just out of the city. I asked for something small, though, so it's nothing much."

"Still, it must have cost a fortune!" Meg exclaimed.

Raoul shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I…"

"We'll have to visit sometime." Christine interrupted quickly. She knew how much Raoul hated to discuss his wealthy family. He smiled gratefully at her.

"Yes, you'll have to! I heard you had a recital coming up?"  
Christine blushed. "Two weeks… and I've hardly practiced. I tried to get some time in tonight, but I hate staying up too late."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Raoul reassured her. "Anyway, I have to get going. I just wanted to let you know I was around, and maybe we can get together sometime?"

Christine's heart skipped a beat, even though she knew he didn't mean it as a date. "Of course!" she responded immediately. Raoul grinned and nodded, then waved to both of them and walked away down the street to where his car was parked.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Meg smiled at Christine. "He's so cute! I'm so happy for you!"

"Happy for me? Oh, Meg, it's not like we're going out. After all, I haven't seen him for so long…"

"But _Christine_, he's a total hottie! And it's _obvious_ he likes you!" Meg whined.

Christine smiled hopefully. "Do you think so?"

"No… I _know_ so. Come on, why _else_ would he go this much out of his way just to see you for a grand total of five minutes? I mean, he could easily have just found you at college sometime tomorrow to let you know he was here."

Christine had to admit, she had a point. Still, she couldn't get her hopes up. Raoul might have just gotten bored, and decided to stop by for a chat. …But maybe not, right?

She could always hope…

xxxxx

Erik returned to his home without looking for anymore records in the church. He could have easily found something that would have shut the place down—but that would mean that Christine couldn't go there either, and he wished to hear her sing again. As a result, he decided to put off closing the church down… for the moment.

Usually, he just sent one of his servants for this kind of thing. Finding records was a job meant for one of them, not him. Tonight, however, he had been feeling out of sorts, and had needed something to do. He was glad he had gone.

If he closed his eyes, he imagined he could still hear her voice…

Erik was met at the door by his head servant and organizer, Jacques. The man was only a few years younger than he was—24, to be precise. He was tall (though not quite as tall as Erik) with neat brown hair and sharp brown eyes. He looked at Erik inquisitively as he entered.

"I've decided not to shut the church down for now." he told Jacques passively as he went by. This servant in particular knew just about everything Erik was involved in. Jacques frowned in thought and looked interested, but said nothing. He knew better than to question Erik.

Erik stopped at the edge of the room, turning back to face his servant. "By the way, see what all you can find out about a young woman by the name of Christine Daae."

Jacques tried to hide his curiosity as he nodded, then moved off in the other direction, getting to work at once.

Erik had almost made it up to his room when suddenly his head maid rounded the corner. Mariette was almost fifty now, and had worked for his family ever since Erik had been a small child. When his parents died, it had been her that had brought him up. She was usually kind, (though strict), but right now she had a cross look on her face as she planted herself in his way. "What's this?" She demanded.

Erik glanced down. She was holding a newspaper. "What's what?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about! _This_." Mariette tapped on the headline at the bottom of the page. It read, _"Broadway Singer Threatened."_

"What about it?" Erik asked, feigning disinterest.  
"Just because I'm getting old, Erik, doesn't mean I'm senile! I know very well who's been sending those threatening messages."

_Damn._ He'd thought he was getting away with that one.

"I should turn you into the police! Honestly, _hacking into her social security?_ I raised you to be better than that, Erik!"

_Hacking into social security? Is that all the papers had found out? They didn't know the half of it…_"You wouldn't turn me in." Erik smiled slightly. He knew an empty threat when he heard one.

"No, I won't. But I _should_. What else have you been up to? Where were you tonight?"

"I took a nice little walk down to the old church on the other side of my orchard."

"Oh? What are you scheming now? You were never a religious man, Erik, so don't pretend you went to confess sins—though you have many—or to pray. What are you up to?"

"Nothing. I'm leaving the church alone."

Mariette's eyes narrowed. "Why?"  
_He could get nothing passed this woman!_ "Why would I do anything to it?" he asked, side-stepping her question. "I'm tired, Mariette, and I plan on retiring for the night. Now, if you would kindly get out of my way…"

Mariette gave him one last scathing look before turning and striding away, shouting back, "You haven't heard the last of this, Erik, so don't even think you've gotten away with it!"

Erik sighed, shaking his head at the old woman's stubbornness. And yet, she still didn't know even a third of what he was up to…

* * *

(A/N: Hmm, not sure if I liked this chapter or not… ((Shrugs)) oh well, let's see what you guys think. Please review!)

Hilary


	3. Carmelita's Discovery

(A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! … was preoccupied watching Phantom… Anyway, I hope you all like this next part! Please R and R! Btw, for those of you who forgot, Jacques is Erik's head servant…)

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**Chapter Three: Carmelita's Discovery**

Jacques sat down at his computer, instantly logging on to the internet. He did a legal search for Christine Daae first, but came up with hardly anything. Instead, he quickly hacked into a few of her files.

Jacques scanned the information, looking for anything that might be important. He mentally wrote down anything of interest, and then looked for her school file.

When he came up with that, he noted the classes she took, and the events that were coming up. He wasn't quite sure what Erik was looking for, so he rooted up a few pictures of her and her friends.

There was a petite blonde girl in most of the school pictures with her, and in one of the captions he found her name—Meg Giry. Jacques debated on hacking into that file as well, but decided against it. He had probably found enough at the moment.

xxxxx

Erik looked up from his latest note to Carmelita as someone knocked on the door. He frowned for a moment before saying, "Come in."

He almost smiled when he saw Jacques. "Anything?"

"Of course. What are you looking for?"

"Shut the door behind you, Mariette has been snooping. I don't want her to get into this one, too."

"She found out about Carmelita?"  
"Yes, well, that didn't come as too much of a surprise… After all, they finally put it into the newspaper. Who knew they'd make a fuss about such a horrible singer? Ah, well, now… What did you find on Christine?"

"Are you looking for anything in specific?"

"What classes is she taking?"

"History of Art, History of Music, Voice, Dance—"

"That's enough. Yes, I thought it'd be along those lines. Did you come up with any of her friends or family?"

"Her father died of cancer last year, and her mother died of childbirth when Christine was born. She isn't too much in contact with any other relatives, except for the grandmother that she visits from time to time. Her closest friend is a girl named Meg Giry, who she shares an apartment with."

"Anything else you'll think I'll find of interest?"

Jacques thought for a moment. "She has a voice recital next Saturday in her school auditorium."

Erik sat up slightly. "Really? What time?"

"Three in the afternoon."

There was a moment of silence as Erik seemed to debate something. Finally, he said, "Thank you Jacques. How would you like to attend a voice recital next Saturday?"

Jacques smiled. "Very much so, sir."

"Good… I think I might even be able to come along. Who knows? This might even be fun…"

xxxxx

When Christine woke up the next morning, she looked at the clock and realized that if she didn't hurry, she'd be late for her first class. She sighed—it seemed as if she was always running behind lately.

Christine quickly got ready, slipping into her clothes and running a brush over her teeth and hair. She didn't bother with the make-up, there was no time. Meg had already left around an hour ago for her two-hour History of Dance class. Christine was glad she had decided against taking that class—Meg complained constantly about it. Of course, that was probably because her mother taught it. However, her mother also taught dance, and Meg barely whined about _that_ one.

Christine's first class was Art. They had been working on advanced still life paintings, which was actually relatively easy. However, their instructor was a stickler for detail, and was extremely picky.

Christine arrived at Art a minute late, and saw Mr. Denning mark something down in his book. She ran a hand through her hair and sat down at her desk. This was _not_ a good way to start the day.

Art class moved painfully slowly that day, seeming like ten hours instead of simply two. Mr. Denning found a million things wrong with her painting, and by the end of class she couldn't wait to leave. Usually, Christine enjoyed Art, but the teacher made it nearly unbearable.

Christine checked the time as she drove down the street. It was 9:30...four hours until her next class, which was Dance with Mme. Giry. Christine smiled. She remembered when Meg was younger, she used to brag about how her mother was actually from France, but over time she had grown to hate it.

"She talks in _French_ when she gets mad at me!" She remembered Meg exclaiming one time, "I can't understand a word of it!"

Christine shook her head. You'd think her friend would have taken French in high school! However, Meg wasn't too good with languages, and had decided against it.

Christine sighed. Now, what to do with her free time? She knew what she _should_ be doing—she had a huge exam in a couple of days in History of Music—but she winced even at the thought of studying on such a nice day.

Finally she decided to take a walk. When you lived in New York City, there was always someplace to go—however, her favorites were by far Central Park and Time Square. Christine decided to walk around Broadway and parked her car in the parking lot for her college. She went to Columbia University, which was actually right on Broadway, and therefore she didn't have far to walk.

Christine walked down the street, looking at the different musicals performed. How she wanted to be on Broadway someday! She didn't have very good chances, however, she reflected. Meg always scolded her for "putting herself down," but Christine always reasoned it was just not getting her hopes up.

She was examining the posters for one of the latest musicals when suddenly there was a high-pitched scream.

Christine whirled around to see where it came from, and quickly spotted a growing crowd gathering around the entranceway to the building. There, the scream had turned into loud wails, and she almost immediately realized who it was.

Carmelita.

The Spanish accent was unforgettable. What was the famous Broadway star doing out in the streets?

It didn't take long for the story to get around, and Christine soon heard that the man who now called himself the "Phantom" had struck again. Carmelita had decided that she wouldn't let his threats scare her, and had returned to the theater.

She had found that morning, however, that her costume had been completely destroyed. Undaunted, she had continued throughout the day, ordering a new costume to be made. Things had only gotten worse, however, when she found that almost everything she owned had been sabotaged. Her stage makeup was ruined, her jewelry was broken, and her music had gone missing.

The last straw had been when she found in her dressing room, a message painted in what looked like dried blood on her mirror. It read:

_Leave now or Die._

Carmelita, figuring the so-called "blood" was just some kind of stage makeup, traced the drips of blood back to its source to reassure herself.

The trail of blood led to her closet. Upon opening it, Carmelita had found the small dog she kept there dead on the floor, its throat slit.

* * *

**(A/N: Uggh, GAG! Okay, CALM down everyone! It wasn't Erik's orders! I promise you, he's not too happy when he finds out! …well, he's not upset… but it wasn't his orders to kill the dog, he just hired someone to 'scare' Carmelita while he worked on other things! Yes, that was slightly gross…I know. Believe me.)**

Hilary


	4. Never Depend on Others

(A/N:** IMPORTANT! **Wow, um, I think there's been a mistake here… I've never, _ever _read the Phantom of Manhattan, and I wasn't even aware that there was a Jacques in it… I assure you that MY Jacques is _NOT_ that one, because he is most certainly not evil Sorry for the confusion!

Also, to the disappointment of some ((casts a dark look at Ravenmyst)) I am NOT going to quit this one, I will NOT take it down, and I do NOT appreciate getting reviews telling me to so that I can spend more time on Crimson Rose. Believe me, it won't happen. If this wasn't stopping me from updating CR, something else would take its place.

Oh, as (yet another) note/reminder: This story is **E/C**! I know that in this chapter Christine is really flirty with Raoul, but she has a crush on him… this is before she meets Erik, after all.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Never Depend on Others…**

Carmelita ran all of the way back to her home that afternoon, where she fainted dead away on the floor as soon as the door was shut behind her. She didn't return for the performance that night.

xxxxx

Christine's mind was so far away that during her Dance class, she kept tripping and running into people. She couldn't stop thinking back to the incident that afternoon. Who would be so cruel as to kill a harmless dog?

Finally, Madame Giry swung her stick around and banged it on the floor. "Christine! Pay attention!"

Christine blushed and pushed the events of that afternoon to the back of her mind. There were more important things than this "Phantom." After all, he didn't have anything to do with _her…_

Or so she thought.

xxxxx

Erik paced the office in front of the man he had hired to frighten Carmelita in his name. "You _idiot!_" he seethed. "You _fool_! I hired you to scare Carmelita, not to kill innocent pets!"

The man sulked slightly. "Well, it _worked_. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

"_No_, that's _not_ all that matters. That animal never did anything to you!" Erik told the man through gritted teeth.

The man, whose name was Clarke, crossed his arms. "Well, Carmelita never did anything to you, did she?"

There was a pause. "That's _different_."

"How so?" Clarke demanded.

"You just don't _kill_ innocent animals! Besides that, _I _haven't killed Carmelita." There was a pause, then he added, "…yet."  
"Well _sorry_. I didn't realize you were going to have a hissy fit about a stupid _dog_."  
Erik whirled around and kicked the chair Clarke was sitting on, sending both chair and man tumbling to the ground.

"Get out!" he yelled.

The man paled considerably, and scrambled to his feet. "What about my money?"

"Damn your money! Get out!"

"But I—"

"If you seriously expect me to pay you after that, you're very mistaken." Erik hissed, "If you don't get the job done right, you don't get paid."

"That's not—"

Erik grabbed a revolver that sat on his desk in a case and aimed at the man. "I'll give you until the count of three… one…_two…_"

The man fled.

Erik smirked and dropped the revolver carelessly back onto his desk. It wasn't even loaded.

Mariette stormed in a moment later. "You _killed_ her _dog_?" she exclaimed, "I knew you were relentless, Erik, but I didn't think you were _heartless_. How could you murder a helpless dog? I don't _believe_—"

"Mariette! I've been here the entire time. How could I have gone and done that when I was here talking to Jacques? I'm talented, yes, but I can't be in two places at once!"

"But then who—" Mariette stopped, confused.

Erik sighed. "I hired someone to scare Carmelita, but it was never my intention to kill her dog. I fired the man who did it."

Mariette frowned disapprovingly. "You never should have hired anyone to do that in the first place…still, though, I'm pleased to know that _you_ didn't do it, at least. It certainly didn't sound like something you would do, but I must confess I had my doubts. I don't know what's gotten into you lately—what next, Erik?"

Erik shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Mariette, if I was planning something else, I probably wouldn't tell anyone…least of all, you. Now, leave me. I have work to do."

"What kind of—" Mariette began persistently, but Erik gently pushed her out of the door and shut it, locking it behind her.

xxxxx

That night, Christine found time to practice for her recital again. At first, she had debated on going back to the little abandoned church. She decided against it, however… something about the place gave her shivers.

She was still trying to think of a place to go when, to her surprise, there was a knock on the door of her apartment. Christine moved the papers off of her lap and stood, cautiously answering the door. She became a whole lot less formal, however, when she realized it was Raoul.

"Raoul! You decided to come by!" Christine's heart fluttered.

Raoul stepped into the apartment, smiling brilliantly. He bowed, and handed her a bouquet of flowers.

Christine blushed and delicately took them from him. "Why Raoul… thank you…I…"

"No need for thanks…I just saw them on the way here, and they were so pretty they reminded me of you. I just_ had_ to get them for you."

Christine's blush deepened. "O-oh…"

"What are you working on?" He asked, moving passed her and looking at the table that was covered with papers. He reached down and uncovered a piece of artwork. "This is really good!"

Christine raised an eyebrow, trying to bite back a laugh. "Thanks… my cousin drew that for me when she was four."

There was a small pause. "Oh…" Raoul quickly tried to cover up, "Yes, well, that's really good for a four-year-old…"

Christine nodded. "Of course… She has a very unique type of scribble."

Was it just her, or was Raoul starting to blush?

"R-right…that's it… um, so, what are you doing tonight, Christine?"

"I have to practice for my recital, only I'm having problems finding a place to practice at. I can't here, or the people next to us would complain."

Raoul's face lit up with a smile. "Why don't you come over to my place? No one would be able to hear you there except me, and I haven't been able to hear you sing for a while."

Christine looked up at him hopefully. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course I wouldn't mind! In fact, I'd enjoy that. I can drive you over now."

Christine smiled. "Thank you! I won't be too long, really, I just _have_ to practice sometime, or my recital is going to be a disaster."  
"Your singing could never be a disaster." Raoul put in smoothly.

She grinned. "That's what _you_ think. One moment, let me get my things." Christine shuffled through the pile of junk on the table, and fished out her recital papers. Then she quickly scratched out a note to Meg. "Okay, I'm ready, then."

Raoul offered her his arm, and then escorted her to the car.

* * *

(A/N: I have so much fun making fun of Raoul… sorry for you Raoul-lovers! I just don't like him … Anyway, thank you for reading, and please review!) 

—Hilary


	5. The Note

(A/N: Yeah, I know, I haven't updated in like… 6 days. Sorry! I've had stuff for choir filling up my time this past week, and I could only update once. And yeah, I chose to update Crimson Rose, because I had updated this one last, and it was that one's turn. Sorry!

Oh, and for whoever asked, after debating it for a while I decided that The Phantom of the Opera itself does NOT exist in this world… After all, it would be an _amazing_ coincidence that there was a Meg Giry, a Christine Daae, and a Raoul de Chagny… and they all just _happen_ to be following part of the storyline of "Phantom." Lol, no, that was WAY too much of a coincidence. Thank you for asking!)

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Note**

After she had practiced singing at Raoul's home for about an hour, Christine told her old friend that she had to leave.

Raoul didn't appear very happy about this. "But… perhaps you could practice singing for a little while more? I mean, it's not that late…"

"It's 9:00…that's late enough for me. I need to get back to my apartment and finish my essay for History of Art."

Raoul sighed. "Okay, then. Would you be interested in going out to eat tomorrow night, though?"

Christine perked up, and then frowned. "Oh, I'd love to, but…"

"But?"  
"Tomorrow is a Saturday, and I work on Saturday evenings. But Sunday would work!" she added hastily as Raoul's face fell. He brightened slightly at that, and nodded.

"Sunday then? It's a date." He smiled, and then caught his slip up. "Well, only if you _want _to consider it a date, of course. It could just be…dinner…"

Christine covered a smile, and then kissed him quickly on the cheek. "It's a date." Then she hurried out of the door.

xxxxx

On her way home, Christine let her mind wander. She had been doing really well on her song, and she had _hated_ to stop when she was making a breakthrough. Still, she didn't want to stay at Raoul's any later than she already had—Meg would tease her mercilessly. Therefore she had been forced to feed Raoul a lie about an essay for History of Art.

It seemed a shame to waste her free time, and she knew she wouldn't get anything done at home. However, where could she go this late?

Instantly her mind answered her. _The little church…of course_. Christine hesitantly pushed that thought away. They might be having a sermon tonight, after all.

_A sermon? Not this late._

Christine fought with herself like this for a while, but eventually had to admit that she had no reason to avoid going back to the church. She was making such good progress with her song, and there was no point in refusing a great opportunity to practice it.

Therefore, when she reached the fork in the road, she took the left bend.

xxxxx

After making sure that the door was locked, Erik crossed his room and went over to the bookshelf. His fingers slid down the side of it until they connected with a catch in the wood. He pressed down on it, and the bookshelf slid aside, revealing a passageway that led down into absolute darkness.

Erik didn't bother to take a light—he knew this passageway like the back of his hand. He stepped into the shadows and pressed another button on the wall, which shifted the bookshelf back into place, and concealed the passageway.

There were only four people in the world that knew of the passageway, and only two who knew how to work it. Mariette and Jacques, being his head servants and the only two people he really confided in, both knew the passageway was _there_. They just didn't know how to operate it.

One of the two who knew how the secret hallway functioned was, of course, Erik. The only other person who knew, (and not by Erik's choice, but by his own prying) was an Iraqi immigrant named Nadir. Erik hadn't seen Nadir in years, however. Nadir had been his one true friend for a time…both of them were outcasts to the normal world. Erik had been disfigured at birth, and Nadir was from a country that was pretty much distrusted in that time.

Erik pushed this out of his mind as he reached a door that blended right into the wall. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be a dead end. He felt along the wall until his fingers found the slight crevice in the rock.

The stone door swung open without so much as a creak, and the lights for the secret room automatically switched on.

This room was Erik's favorite room in his entire house. This was saying something, too, as his house consisted of nearly 200 different rooms. It was full of shelves lined with musical instruments and, opposite from the entryway, there was his prize possession. A great organ, polished to perfection, was built into the side of the wall.

Erik walked over to it and gently ran his hands down the keys. Music was his only love, his only true joy in life. That was one of many reasons why Carmelita offended him so much—usually Broadway wasn't _too_ bad…but she made it completely horrible.

Erik pushed Carmelita from his mind and sank down onto the bench in front of the organ, took a deep breath, and began to play.

His eyes closed as he lost himself in the music.

An hour later he was rudely interrupted by Jacques's voice over the intercom. Erik struck a discord on the piano and whirled around to glare at it. He had forgotten to turn it off before he began.

"Sir?" Jacques's voice asked again.

"Yes, Jacques?" Erik asked through gritted teeth, trying to tell himself it wasn't his servant's fault.

"Sir, do you happen to know anyone who owns a small, second-hand, light blue Honda with a small dent on the right side?"

Erik frowned. "No. Why?"

"It's turning up on the surveillance cameras."  
He stood and pushed the bench back from the organ, walking calmly over to the intercom. "Where, Jacques?"

There was a pause and Erik heard his servant cross back over to the video screens to watch. Then he returned.

"West side, on the very edges of your property. In fact, I don't think it's on your property at all… It doesn't look like it's going to turn this way, only that it's passing. I just thought I'd tell you—we don't get people near here often, except on Sundays."

As Jacques said "Except on Sundays" Something clicked. "Jacques, does it happen to be heading towards the small church just off my far western border?"

There was another pause. "Well…yes, actually, now that I'm looking…it does seem to be heading towards the church. Why?"

"Thank you Jacques, that will be all."

Erik switched off the intercom and quickly crossed over to the hidden door. He wasn't about to miss a chance to hear Ms. Daae sing. If anyone deserved to be on Broadway, it was she…

Suddenly Erik smiled, a plan forming in his mind.

xxxxx

Christine slowed to a stop and opened the door to her car. She leaned over and grabbed her music from the passenger seat, and then stepped out, locking the door behind her.

The night was dark, the clouds covering the moon and stars. A faint breeze blew through the surrounding trees, making Christine shiver. She wished she had brought a jacket, but there was no time and no point in going back to her apartment now.

Christine shivered and hugged her music to herself, trying to block out the chill. What _was_ it about this place?

Slowly she pulled the heavy door to the church open, and then stepped inside. It closed with a bang behind her, making her jump. For a moment she was in complete darkness, and she had to fumble for the light. As she searched for it, she dropped her music, which scattered in different directions across the floor.

Christine sighed. This was _not_ a good start. She didn't bother to attempt to pick up her music in the darkness, as the effort would obviously be fruitless. Instead, she continued to scramble for the light.

It took her an entire ten minutes to find it, and when she did she sighed in relief. Upon turning to pick up her music, however, she found that it wasn't there. Slowly, she brought her eyes up to the podium.

There was her music, in a neat pile, sitting innocently on top.

Christine felt the color drain from her face, and was tempted to leave right there and then. She took a calming breath, however, and walked over to the podium. There was no such thing as ghosts, she knew that. The wind must have…blown the papers up onto the podium…into a neat stack…in order…through closed doors… Right. That was it. It had to be.

Christine didn't dwell on this thought, as she knew it was preposterous. Still, there was no other explanation. She hadn't heard anyone else enter the church…and besides, how could they have picked up her papers in the dark?

Christine closed her eyes for a moment to gather her scattered thoughts. Then she looked down at page one of her music, and began to sing. She completely skipped warm-ups…after all, she had just been practicing over at Raoul's, and was warmed-up enough.

To her delight, she did even better than usual. When she ran through it another time, she did better still yet.

Overjoyed with her success, Christine didn't notice the hours slip passed.

Finally, she glanced down at her watch. Her eyes widened as she took in the time—11:30. Christine sighed. Meg would _never_ believe that she had left Raoul's house to go practice in an abandoned church for two and a half hours.

Christine swayed slightly. She hadn't realized until now how _tired_ she was! She gathered up her things and turned to go.

Suddenly, however, something caught her eye.

A small slip of paper—or was it an envelope?—fluttered down from the rafters. Christine's eyes watched its progress, fascinated, until it hit the floor. Without thinking she crossed over to it and picked it up. She nearly dropped it again when she saw the seal…

It was a skull, done in blood red wax…

* * *

(A/N: Thank you for reading! PLEASE review! ((puppy eyes)) ) 


	6. Christine's Secret

(A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well. :) Please remember to review at the end! ((innocent smile))

* * *

**Chapter Six: Christine's Secret**

Christine stared at the envelope in her hand for a while, trembling. She tilted her head up and her eyes scanned the rafters, searching for whoever had dropped it.

There was no one there.

Christine took a deep, steadying breath and looked back down at the envelope. The gruesome skull looked right back at her. Her eyes shut for a moment to close out the horrible visage. Then she opened them again and slid her finger under the seal, breaking it. Every one of her senses told her to flee, but she held her ground. If this was someone playing a prank on her, she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her run.

Slowly she pulled the letter out. It was hand-written, which surprised her, and it had a type of childish quality about it. The letters were disconnected, and looked as if it had taken a great deal of work to write them. Christine frowned at it for a moment before taking in what it said.

_To Ms. Christine Daae:_

She paled slightly. Whoever wrote this _knew her name_. Gradually she composed herself and read on.

_Your voice makes the angels in heaven cry in shame. The tone, quality, and pitch are perfect. Hold your head up when you sing, though, it will help your voice carry better. Your support is rather good, but you still might want to practice on it. The only true problem you have at the moment really portraying the emotions in the song. Before you sing, close your eyes and imagine yourself as the character who sang this song. Think of how they would feel as they sang the words you are singing, and put all of that feeling into the lyrics._

_Behind you on the right edge of the steps are copies of music from a Broadway musical that is currently missing their lead. I imagine they will require a new one, and you are exactly what they need. Practice this music._

_I will deliver the date of the tryouts to your door._

Christine finished reading, eyes wide. Not only did this person know her name, but they knew where she lived! Christine leaned on the podium, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. She probably knew this person—for all she knew, it was Meg or Raoul playing a trick on her.

That didn't make sense, though. Neither of them knew that she was here—in fact, no one knew she was here. _She_ didn't even know when she left that she would come here. Her gaze suddenly dropped to the signature.

_Your friend and assistant,_

_The Phantom_

Christine dropped the paper like it was on fire, the little color that was left in her face leaving it. _The Phantom_. The man that had threatened Carmelita, ruined her costumes, killed her dog…stole her music…

Christine's eyes flew to the music that sat at the edge of the small platform, then back to the note on the ground. _He had stolen Carmelita's music…and now he was giving it to her! _

Christine side-stepped the note and walked hesitantly over to the music. She should take it, and turn it into the police, along with the note. They could analyze the handwriting, and possibly catch this man before he did any more damage.

Christine gathered the music up and felt a pang of longing. She wished that this _wasn't _stolen music, and that someone was really trying to help her get on Broadway. She paged through Carmelita's music absent-mindedly. Perhaps she could…

_No._ This man was a maniac, and needed to be stopped. This was possibly the only evidence they had against him.

Christine firmly tucked the music under her arm and walked back over to the note, picking it up off of the floor. She frowned as she noticed something on the back…a post script.

_P.S.—Good luck at your recital next week._

This time, Christine didn't hesitate. She fled.

xxxxx

Golden eyes followed after Christine as she ran out of the door, slamming it shut behind her. Erik smiled slightly. She was frightened now, but she would quickly learn that she had nothing to fear from him.

He carefully climbed down from his hiding place, switching off the lights before taking the back door out.

Soon, everyone would forget Carmelita, and Christine would be the new star of Broadway…

xxxxx

Christine got into her car and started it up, before realizing she hadn't shut the lights off to the church. She winced… there was no _way_ she was going back in there. Hopefully, someone would notice, and if no one did then nothing could be done. Someone probably came around to check on it, anyway.

As Christine pulled out of the church's tiny parking lot, she looked back over her shoulder.

The lights were off.

To stop herself from hitting the gas and pealing out of the parking lot as fast as she could, she told herself that the lights must have burnt out already. All of them. At the same time. Well, it _could_ happen…

xxxxx

Meg was waiting for Christine when she returned, a smirk on her face. "So... did you have a good time at Raoul's?"

Christine stared at her friend for a moment, momentarily lost. After all of the things that had happened, she had completely forgotten that she had originally been at Raoul's house.

"Oh… right. Yes, that. I didn't stay for too long because I didn't want to bother him. But Meg—" She was about to tell Meg about the note when her friend interrupted her.

"When did you guys leave?"

"I don't remember. Meg, I got this note—"

"Oh come _on_, Christine, you _have_ to remember."

"Sometime around… Oh, I really can't recall Meg. Look—"

"Christine! This is _important_. He could be your first boyfriend!"

_And this is my first stalker…who happens to be a notorious criminal! That's rather important as well!_ Christine thought furiously. "Meg, this is _much_ more important than Raoul. I was practicing for my recital when—"

Meg sighed dramatically. "When will you _learn_, Christine? There are _much_ more important things in life than singing."

"_Meg_! I was rehearsing for my recital when I got a note from that Phantom guy—the one who's been threatening Carmelita. He knows my name, where I live, and that my recital is next week. I don't know _how _much more he knows about me…but…" Christine was about to continue when she saw her friend's face.

Meg's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Christine…that's really serious! Did you call the police yet?"

Christine was about to tell Meg that she hadn't when she thought about it…_really_ thought about it. _She_ had Carmelita's stolen music. _Her_ finger prints were all over it, _and_ all over the note. Why would they believe that _she_ hadn't been responsible for everything? She didn't have any proof that it wasn't her! Besides that, even in the event that the police _did_ believe her, this man was an insane criminal…who was to say he wouldn't just go after _her_? Or worse, since he knew where she lived, threaten to kill _Meg_?

"I…" Christine forced a small laugh. "I'm sorry, Meg, I was just kidding. I… wanted your attention…you know, you kept interrupting me."

Meg blinked for a second, frowning. "Christine, that really wasn't funny…you completely scared me."

"I know…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was trying to come up with something that was more important than Raoul. But you're right; he's probably the most important thing in my life right now."

Meg was not to be put off so easily, though. "Are you sure Christine? You really sounded scared…"

"Did I? Good, I've been practicing on my acting for a while now, I'm glad it paid off. Anyway," Christine quickly changed the topic to something she knew would make Meg forget everything about the Phantom, "Raoul asked me out!"

Meg jumped up with a squeal, "I _knew_ it!"

xxxxx

Erik returned to his house and nearly ran right into Mariette. "Where have you been? Jacques told me you went out to investigate a car that was near that little church…"

Jacques happened to walk down the stairs at that very moment, and immediately received a sharp glare from Erik. His eyes went from him, back to Mariette, and he instantly understood everything that was going on.

"Ah, yes, the car," Jacques put in, "I was receiving suspicious readings from it…we thought that it might be containing weapons."

Mariette's eyes narrowed. "I _see_. And we wouldn't want anyone to put Erik in danger, right?"

"Exactly."

"So naturally _Erik_ was the one to go investigate."

Jacques paused for only a moment. "Naturally." He answered with a small smile. After receiving a glower from Mariette he added, "Don't ask _me…_Erik's the one who insisted on going."

Erik's glares at Jacques became deadly. His head servant coughed and began back up the steps. "I'll just be going now, shall I?"

"Don't you _move!"_ Mariette snapped. Jacques froze. "Now, you're _both _going to come with me, and explain what you've been up to."

* * *

(A/N: Lol, I couldn't help but update… Even though I haven't updated on other one's for a while… ((guilty look)) Don't worry, Crimson Rose will also be updated tonight. PLEASE REVIEW!)

—Hilary


	7. Before the Recital

(A/N: Okay, I know this took forever to update. The truth is, between a huge book report (the book is 1000 pages long!), and a new History project, and voice lessons, and Banquets for honors and chorus, and endless other things… I just haven't had time. I'm sorry, SO sorry that it took so long to update. My guilt was eating away at me near the end…I haven't updated on Crimson Rose yet, either. It's just that I updated that one last, so I figured it was this one's turn… oh well. -- Basically, right now I don't have much time, but don't worry! This weekend is Memorial Day, and I have a three day weekend. I should be able to update a few times in there. Also, summer is ALMOST here! I get out of school June 8 (oh happy day!), and from then on you can expect an update _faithfully_ every other day, or at MOST every third day. Thank you for being patient with me, I appreciate it! Btw, yeah, this chapter is short…I have a banquet tonight. Sorry. It's kind of amusing, though!

**PhantomFlutePlayer**

Thank you for reading! I'm glad that you like it!

**Rosakara**

Lol, thanks! I'm glad that you liked that chapter. I hope that you like this one too:)

**mlovektowsing**

Lol, good point… Christine would have just _hated _herself if she had turned Erik in!

**Dreamer of Fantasy**

LOL! How dare you read this stupid thing when you're supposed to be researching _Shakespeare!_ (lol, don't worry, I'm totally with you…I would have been on too!) I'm glad that you like my fanfiction! I've been really upset lately that I couldn't post. It's been nagging me forever… omg, lol, I've done that before, too! I was reading a story and I didn't even realize I was squealing and bouncing up and down in my chair…It was so funny, because I was in homeroom, and everyone was like… Omg, she's gone insane! (well… _more _insane…) Yay! I'm glad that you like Mariette and Jacques. ((hugs them)) they're in this chapter a lot, and you get to know them a little bit better. Thank you for reviewing!

**LuvinLivnReadn**

Thank you! I thought Mariette was pretty cool from the moment I started writing her. Actually, to my surprise, I actually _like _this phic… I usually hate my work. Lol, anyway, thank you so much for reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter, too, even if it _is_ short!

**erik'sangel527 **

((squeals)) Yay! Thank you! I'm glad that you liked that chapter…I had a grand time writing it, I know that! Thank you sososo much! I can't tell you how much you guys' reviews make my day!

**Aislin of the Shadows**

Lol, yeah, Meg's getting on my nerves a little bit in this one too. I thought about it and figured that it was only because she was worried about Christine. I mean, think about it… if some man rumored to be a criminal was stalking your friend (and you didn't know it was Erik!) you'd be worried, right? And if your friend had a really hot guy that she liked, and he seemed to like her too, you'd want them to get together, right? So it makes sense…it's just because we know that they're Erik and Raoul that we're annoyed. Let's forgive Meg on the pretense that she doesn't know either of them that well.

**fell4adeadguy**

Lol Thank you for reviewing! I hope you like this chapter, too.

**friend5**

Lol, I'm glad that you like it… you know, I've started most of these responses with Lol…weird. Anyway, thank you SO much! I love getting your reviews—it makes me happy to know that people enjoy what I write. So thank you! I hope you like this next chapter as well!

**Erik'sTrueAngel**

Lol But who could stay mad at Erik for long, right? I mean…it's _Erik_ ((Drool))

**KeeperMusicNight**

Glad that you liked the note! And, lol, don't feel _too_ bad for Jacques just yet. Read this chapter…I think you'll find you feel worse for Mariette. Lol!

**Mini Nicka**

Yep, Erik's in trouble… at the moment. Read this chapter and see if he can get out of it… Thank you for reviewing! I hope you enjoy the (kind of short) chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Before the Recital**

After trying to calm Meg down, (she wouldn't shut up about how cute Christine and Raoul were together), Christine went to her room. As soon as she was sure the door was locked, she removed Carmelita's old sheet music from her music folder.

_What should she do?_ Christine dropped the music on the bed and hugged herself, trying to block out the chill. She was stuck—she couldn't report to the police, or she could get in trouble for something she didn't even have any part in.

A moment later, she resigned herself. There really was nothing she could do about it at the moment… her eyes wandered to Carmelita's music. Surely it couldn't _hurt_ for her to just…just take a look at it.

Christine picked it back up off of the bed, eyes scanning the music eagerly. She hummed the first few bars to herself, committing them to memory. Who knew? Even without the Phantom's help, she could try to audition. She could just continue to ignore him… Maybe things would work out for the best.

xxxxx

Mariette led them down the hallway to a medium-sized sitting room, then closed the door with a bang and locked it with a key. Then she crossed the room and locked the back door, the only other exit, as well. Mariette stuck the key in her pocket and scowled at them.

"Now, we're going to sit here until you two tell me what's been going on. I know you're up to something, Erik, and Jacques is obviously in on it. I have the key to those doors, so therefore I'm the only way out."

Jacques grinned impishly. "Not quite." he pulled a little remote control from his pocket and typed something into it. Instantly there was a click, and both of the doors swung open.

Mariette frowned disapprovingly, and Erik looked as if he were trying not to smile.

"Give me that!" Mariette snapped irritably. She snatched the little remote from Jacques's hands and pocketed it, then relocked the doors. "_Now_ I'm the only way out."

Jacques said nothing, but there was a smile on his lips.

Mariette chose to ignore it. "So, either you two explain, or I'm going to keep you in here forever."

Erik sighed. "Mariette, you knew I had an…_interest_…in the little church on the other side of my orchard. I've been planning on shutting it down for a while now. However, I recently changed my mind because it proves as a sufficient meeting place between me and those who I hired to help me scare Carmelita."

Jacques flicked him a glance out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. He knew very well that Erik had only hired one man to help him… and that man was recently fired. In fact, Jacques was working on making the man seem unstable, just in case he got it into his head to tell someone that Erik was the Phantom and make a lot of money. So far, the man hadn't been smart enough—or stupid enough—to do so.

Mariette, it appeared, knew this as well. "You only hired one man to help you." she stated, eyes narrowed.

"Do you know that?" Erik asked with a sly smile.

She frowned. "Well…no. But if you want to get out of here, you'd better convince me better than that. If you haven't noticed, the doors are still locked."

_Click_. The doors swung open.

Mariette stared at them incredulously, and then whirled around to glare at Jacques, who was obviously attempting to hold back laughter. He held up his hands in an innocent gesture, eyes glinting.

Mariette could only glower at him. She turned and slammed the doors shut, then relocked them once again.

"Now Erik, explain to me why you went down there today."

Erik coolly met her gaze, arms crossed. "Mariette, I don't believe that is any of your business."

"If you don't tell me now, Erik the doors will remain locked!"

_Click_.

Mariette didn't even turn and look, but glared bloody murder at Jacques instead. Jacques was fighting to keep a straight face. "It's not me! I swear!"

"I'm sure." her voice was poisonous.

After relocking the doors yet again, Mariette turned back to Erik. "Erik…I just don't want you to get into any more trouble than you already are. Please, _please _tell me what you're doing. I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with the church, and so far it seems as if this isn't about Carmelita this time."  
Erik sighed. "Mariette, I really don't want you involved in this. To tell you the truth, I don't think Jacques even knows what I'm talking about, or why I decided to follow that car." He looked to Jacques, who shook his head.

"I really don't know." he said seriously.

Mariette ran a hand through her hair. "Very well, Erik…but if I find out that what you're up to is illegal _or_ immoral in anyway, I will hunt you down, and if I have to _beat_ sense into you, I will. That or I'll just have to lock you up somewhere…" she glared venomously at Jacques and added, "And make sure that the doors _stay_ locked!"

_Click._

Jacques quickly turned his laugh into a hacking cough

xxxxx

The next two weeks passed normally for Christine. Whenever she could find time to, she stopped by at Raoul's to practice for her recital. She felt guilty, as if she were just using his house, and didn't really want his company. The only notable event was their date, if you could even say it was notable.

The whole time was rather awkward, with Raoul trying to start conversations that eventually died out. Christine didn't know why, but she no longer felt like she could talk to him as easily as she had been able to when they were children.

He was still as sweet and charming as ever, and didn't take it personally when she had to leave early to work on a report for one of her classes. He asked before she left if she would go out to eat with him again on another night, and she accepted.

The days before the recital were stressful for Christine. Every single spare moment she had was spent practicing…no matter where she was.

Finally, the evening before the recital came upon her.

* * *

(A/N: Yay! The recital is in the next chapter…at least, I think it will be! I _hope_ it will be… What do you all think of Jacques, now that you're getting more of his character? Oh, that reminds me…

**Jacques's Puzzle: **As you might have guessed, Jacques _was_ the one who caused the doors to open. In your review, tell me how you think he did it… and no, he didn't have another remote control! The winner gets a kiss from Erik and recognition in the next chapter! Be the first one to tell me the right answer!)

—Hilary


	8. The Mysterious Man

**Jacques's Puzzle: **Well, I think about three of you got it… I don't remember I'll go back and look and put your names at the end. And the answer is: (after all of the waiting you guys went through to get it, and if you even still read this when I update!) The doors were voice activated so that every time Mariette said the word "locked" they opened. Thanks for all of your guesses! Some of them were really neat ideas

* * *

**Chapter Eight: The Mysterious Man**

Christine slowed down her car as she pulled into the parking lot outside of the voice building the recital was taking place in. She found a spot to park and then turned off the ignition. For a moment, she just sat still in her seat, nervously running her fingers through her hair.

She knew she had practiced a lot, and that she had the song down pretty well… but no matter how hard she practiced or how well she thought she knew the song, there was always the possibility that something could go wrong.

After another deep breath she forced herself to lean over the seat to grab her music, and then opened the car door and stepped outside.

Almost immediately, a gust of wind ruined in seconds the hairstyle that had taken her nearly an hour to fix. Christine slammed the car door shut and ran for the building, hoping that she would be able to salvage it.

When she got inside she went straight to the ladies' bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, she tried to access the damage done. The upsweep that she had worked so hard to make perfect—which was hard, considering her hair always seemed to want to rebel against any kind of restraint—was completely destroyed. Christine sighed and began to pull the bobby pins from her hair, setting them carefully on the edge of the counter.

She was halfway through when it suddenly struck her that she was being watched. Christine stiffened and glanced surreptitiously out of the corners of her eyes.

The bathroom was completely deserted except for her. Frowning, she examined it closer. The door was tightly shut, and the stalls were all empty. There weren't any windows. Shaking her head, Christine turned back to the mirror and continued taking out the hair pins. She ignored the feeling, hoping once more it was her overactive imagination, or perhaps just anxiety for the upcoming performance.

She had just taken out the last pin when a flicker of gold in the mirror caught her attention. She gazed into the reflection of the grate set into the wall, where she had seen the movement. It took her a moment to realize that she was looking straight into a pair of yellow eyes.

Christine gasped and whirled around, accidentally dashing the hairpins from the counter in her fright. She gazed straight up into the grate and saw…

Nothing. Whatever had been there… if anything at all… was gone now.

Christine turned back to the mirror, looking into it again just to be sure. The grate was blank and empty in the reflection as well. The brunette took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and collected the scattered hair pins. _It was probably just a cat_… she tried to convince herself. After all, it made sense. No sane _human_ would climb into an airshaft to spy on her in the ladies' bathroom…

°†°

Jacques watched in amusement as Erik shoved the grate covering aside and climbed out of the airshaft. He must have noticed Jacques's less-than-impressed look, because he scowled. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, sir, of course. You said you were going to the record room to see if you could find anything else on Miss Daae's background. Did you see anything interesting on the way there?"

"What kind of interesting things?" Erik asked suspiciously.

"Oh, you know… Rats… lost jewelry… pretty brunette girls with nice voices…"

Erik's expression darkened further, and Jacques fought back a smile. He decided not to press the subject, however. Sometimes his master could get testy when he thought he was being sneaky…and then got caught anyway.

Erik finished brushing the last of the dust off of his cloak and straightened. "Come." Jacques had to bite back another grin as he watched Erik sweep away, head held at an indignant angle. He let him walk for a while before finally deciding to say something.

"Sir?"  
Erik stopped and whirled around, his cloak billowing effectively. "_Yes?_"

Jacques cocked his head. He was using that "don't mess with me" tone. Jacques briefly considered not saying anything, and then decided against it. "The recital hall is _in the other direction, _sir."

There was a pause, and then Erik's eyes narrowed. "I knew that."

"Yes, sir."

"I _did._"

"Of course, sir."

Erik gave him one last glare, and then swept past him for the second time. After a moment, Jacques turned and followed.

°†°

Erik glanced back at Jacques, trying to figure out whether or not to be angry at him. After a moment's hesitation, he brushed it aside. It wasn't _his_ fault Erik had been going the wrong way… but since when had Erik lost his impeccable sense of direction? He winced as he realized that his feet had inadvertently been leading him towards the bathrooms. Maybe he hadn't lost his sense of direction after all. But he wasn't about to tell Jacques that.

°†°

Christine was a few minutes late for warm-ups, but quickly got into position among her peers. Her teacher tactfully ignored her late entrance and continued with the scales. Five minutes later, they all headed into the recital hall.

Before Christine could take her seat, however, someone grabbed her arm. Already jumpy, she whirled around to find Meg standing beside her with a mischievous and excited look on her face. "Meg… you scared me to death! I'm glad you made it, but I have to go sit…"

"Did you see? Raoul made it to your recital!"

"That's great Meg—"

"But more importantly, who's the mysterious rich guy in the corner over there? He's kinda hot, don't you think? I wonder if I could…"

"_Meg_." Christine said exasperatedly, swatting at her friend. "I have to go sit down. I was already late to warm-ups, I can't have the teacher hold up the recital just because you want to gossip about cute guys. Now, go on and search for potential boyfriends… but please remember to listen when it's my turn," Christine joked, "I want to know how I did."

Meg rolled her eyes. "Of course I will. Not that I really _have _to… you'll do great. As usual. Now get going while I examine the mysterious hottie."

Christine grinned and shook her head, and then headed for her seat. Almost immediately after she sat down, the recital began. She was third to last, so during the first few songs she was almost relaxed. She took the time to find Raoul, and sent him a smile, which he returned. Christine also attempted to spot the man who had captured Meg's attention, but she couldn't see the back of the room clearly from where she was sitting. She quickly forgot about it as her turn to perform grew nearer.

Finally, the person before her finished her song and stepped down off of the platform. Christine got shakily to her feet and moved to stand before the microphone. She attempted to black out the audience, but failed. Instead, she found her eyes being dragged to the corner where Meg's 'rich guy' was.

He was tall with black hair and a long black cape. He was, indeed, very good looking. What she could see of him, anyway… What wasn't hidden by the shadows was hidden by a black leather mask that covered a good part of his face.

Christine's attention was dragged away as the music started up. Just before her entrance, she glanced at Raoul again. He grinned encouragingly at her, and she began to sing…

°†°

"Wow Christine! I think that was one of the best recitals you've done!" Meg congratulated her.

Christine blushed. "Well… I just saw Raoul in the audience and… I don't know… I just wanted to do a good job. For him." Her blush deepened as Meg raised an eyebrow. "Well he always liked my voice when we were little, and I wanted to show him how much it's matured!"

"Right…anyway, did you see—"

"Brava, mademoiselle." A soft voice said right behind them. Christine jumped again, then turned with a smile to see the man that undoubtedly was going to be Meg's next topic, his servant standing at his side. Meg let out a little squeal.

"Thank you, sir—" Christine broke off as she met his eyes. Slowly, the blood drained from her face. There was a pause, and then she grabbed Meg's wrist. "But now we must be going. I—um, have some homework to do and… well…goodbye." She half dragged Meg from the room, not stopping until they were outside.

"What's wrong with you?" Meg exclaimed, "He was so _sexy!_ And he wanted to talk to _you_!"

But Christine didn't even hear her. Even now, she could feel his eyes on her. Golden eyes… like a cat…

* * *

Hey everyone! Wow…it's been almost a year since I updated this one! Anyway, I decided to keep working on this one and set Crimson Rose aside (for now… and only after one more update. That will be the end of act one). I'll pick Crimson Rose back up on summer vacation. Until then, I'm going to write this one… simply because I have inspiration to write this one, and not Crimson Rose. Who knows, I might even update more! lol. And I don't blame you if you abandoned this one, believe me. 

Oh, one more note… I changed my author name. If you didn't notice. It's now sunset.rising. Thanks for all of your support, guys :)

Hilary


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